The Mighty Mightor: 'Lil Rok's Quest
by Generation X-er
Summary: This is the first chapter of a new Mightor story. I hope I can finish it!


                                                        Prologue 

     Once, many, many Saturday mornings ago, long before the sages of Atlantis came down from the stars to give their scientific knowledge to the sons of men, when all the continents were joined into a single, incredible landmass, there was a time of strife and constant warfare among the scattered tribes of humanity. Many races, human, and non, shared this strange world. It was a time of heroics and great magic. Many were the heroes of this long-forgotten age. And the greatest of all these heroes was…

                                              The Mighty Mightor 

**                                              'LIL ROK'S QUEST**

       The cavern was deep, dark and gloomy. It was high-domed, and lit from with in with several stone lamps which cast eerie, flickering shadows over the reddened walls. In the direct center of the room was a vast, stone table. And seated around this table were an asemblege of some of the most grim and terrible villains of the age. Korg, the Beast-master was there, and the Storm-King, and the Gorg of the Giant-People, who was not actually seated in the chamber but whose visage was peering through a window to the council room. The Serpent Queen was present as well, flanked on both sides by her subservient Gill-Men. And Vultar, Chief of the Vulture Men.  Kartu, of the Plant Men, Brutor the Barbarian, and Numo of the Sea-Slavers from the lands across the Tethys, Ogar of the Dragon-Men.  And many others, all of whom had been defeated by Mightor. 

     But at the head of the table in a vast stone chair sat a being none of the others had seen before. 

   He was a head taller than any of the others save Gorg, and clad in the thick snowy hide of a saber-tooth mountain bear. A necklace of the outsized fangs of the same beast hung about the strange warrior's thick neck. His own hair was of the same snowy white, though it was clear it was not from age, nor was it the hair of an albino or the silver white of an ashen-blond. It was blindingly, unnaturally white. The man's thick-muscles arms were covered with ringlets, and clasps of ice-jewels. His face was hard and brutal, wide-faced, and rather sloped-browed, yet with an undeniable intelligence one would have thought absent from or so brutish an appearance. His eyes were large and almost protruberant, a trait those of many of the archaic races. They were a pale milky, blue, with pupils the blue of glacial ice. His skin was also a pale blue color. 

   His name was Polaar, chief of the Frost People. Only now he was chief no longer, for he was now the last of his kind. Ever since his people had been forced deep into the fastness of the great mountain range, the spine of the world-continent that would one-day split to divide into South America and Africa, following the Shaman-Wars, they had been few in number. During the ars they had been the ones responsible for the unethical creation of Snow-Trappers, those semi-intelligent mountain beasts who now shared an icy hatred for all things human. The trappers had been created from captured slaves, transformed by mountain-sorcery into ravening beasts who lived only for slaughter. Of all the races of the world, the Snow-Trapper's hated the Frost-People, the ones who had made them what they now were. The Frost People were more reliient to the cold than most others, but they were so few in number, that they gradually grew inbred, and stillbirths became very common. 

     Until at last only Polaar remained. 

    And now he was ready for the vengeance on the outside world he had planned for a long, long time. For Polaar was practically old enough to remember the Shaman-Wars himself. He had been only a lad then, but he had been taught the arts of war by his father, known as Glacion the Ice-Lord. Glacion had taught his son all he needed to know, about the old ways of majic, how to created spells summon snow-elementals, and so forth. This was after they had retreated into the mountains following their defeat. Glacion had been able to save his son and his people, but his people would not survive long. Polarr was ready to conquer the world. But once he had ventured from his prison of cliffs, he learned more about the world, how it had changed. And found that there was one champion around who stood in his way. That was why he had imprsssed the most feared leaders of the wolrd with his ancient magic, and gathered them for this meeting.

      The first one to break the silence as Rog, of the Stone Men.

      "My people have attacked Pondo's tribe more than once," he said, shaking his fist," But Mightor always defeated us!"

    "That is true," agreed Vultar "Even when we had Mightor within our grasp, he somehow managed to win!"

     "Even the might of the Giant People was no match for Mightor!" agreed Gorg. 

     "Even my power to summon the very beasts of the jungle was nothing against him!" said Korg. 

     "I and my Plant-Warriors had Mighot'rs friends captive." Said Kartu," But still Mighor managed to free them and defeat my garden of deadly plants!" 

      "My serpent of the pool was powerless against him!" said the Serpent Queen.

        "Even Lightening cannot faze him!" stormed the Storm-King. Angry voices filled the chamber.

     Polaar only smiled, a grin cold as the glacial ice. "Come, come, let us have order!"

         Everyone quieted. 

        "Mightor is only invincible because you think he is." 

     "What do you mean, Polaar?" Rog insisted. "All of us have trifled with Mightor, and all of us have been defeated! Does that not make him invincible?"

      "You forget about Mightor's one weakness…."

     "And what is that?" demanded Ogar. "His friends? Others have tried kidnapping his friends before, and still-"

    Polar held up a hand to silence. "No. That is not what I meant. I refer to the source of Mightor's power."

     The room fell silent once more. 

     "You see," continued Polaar, in a voice soft as silk." All of you have tried to defeat Mightor with sheer force. But you've overlooked how it is Mightor gets his power. It is obvious, his power comes from magic. Find this source of magic, and Mightor is defeated."

      "But what is this source of magic?' Brutor asked. 

     "Come Brutor. Think. Didn't the young warrior you had captured with the red-headed she ask to fight your army of plants with his club? You should not have allowed him the weapon."

     Brutor scowled. "But surely no club could have prevailed. It was Mightor who used his super strength to defeat my plants! He is one who saved the young warrior, the young she, and the boy!"

    "And did you ever see Mightor and this young warrior together? Have any of you?"

    "What does that have to do with anything?" Brutor demanded

    "Just think about it. Have you?"

    A murmur of loud canfusion filled the great hall, as everyone tried to remember if they had seen Mightor, and Tor, the young warrior of chief Pondo's tribe, together. At last everyone agreed that they couldn't recall a single instance.

    "I see." Said Polaar. "Now let me tell you what I want you all to do…."

   ****

      One fine morning in the age of Mightor, in the dawn of the HB universe, at the Rushing Waters, not far from the cave-village of Chief Pondo, Tor and and Tog were showing 'Lil Rok and Ork how to fish. 

     "You throw the line out like this, 'Lil Rok," Tor was saying, as he demonstrated. 

     'Lil Rok tried to cast his fishing line out as far as he could, figuring the biggest, nastiest fish would be found in the deepest waters. 

   "That's it." Said Tor. 

   "I'm gonna catch me the biggest fish in the history of our tribe." Said 'Lil Rok. "Right Ork?"

    "Raw-ak!" agreed Ork.

    Tor laughed. "I'm sure you will, 'Lil Rok. Just try not to catch anything _too_ big, okay?

    "Okay, Tor. I'll only catch one big enough to feed the tribe for a week."

    _That wasn't exactly what I meant_, Tor thought to himself. 

     An hour later, they were still sitting cross-legged on the bank, and niehter Tor nor 'Lil Rok had received so much as a faint tug on the line. 

     "Gee," complained 'Lil Rok resting his chin in his right hand, " this is getting boring. I haven't gotten a bite all day. C'mon, Ork, let's find something else to do."

   But just then 'Lil Rok's line went suddenly taut as a g-string "I got one! I got one!" he cried, scrbling to his feet, and pulling hard on the bamboo pole. Ork was hovering in the air, flapping his wings in excitement."Ork! Ork!" he cried. 

     "Looks like you do, 'Lil Rok," said Tor. He realized then that his earlier fear might be realized. It didn't surprise him in the least that 'Lil Rok  seemed to have hooked something bigger than he could handle. 

    "I've got him, Ork, I've got him!" 'Lil Rok cried. "He won't get away from _me!"_

    "Easy, 'Lil Rok," cautioned Tor. "maybe you better let this one go…"

   "Let him go? No way! Not while I've…._uh_…got him…._uh_….right where I want him!" 'Lil Rok's pole was bent to the point of breaking, and boy was now being dragged slowly toward the water, his heels digging into the sand. 

   "Here, let me…." Said Tor.

   But then there was a tremendous splash as a gigantic shape erupted from the Rushing Waters. A mass of writhing coiling tenacles burst forth. Two of the rubbery members seized 'Lil Rok and Ork in a suckered grip. A massive coiled shell rose behind the tenacles, Peering from this shell's opening were two slanting scarlet eyes set in a oiling green visage. The thing was a giant nautilid, a shelled cousin of the squid and the octopus. Mostly, they were native to the great inland sea of Tehthys, and the even mighter ocean of Panlassa which girded the entire world-continent where they attained unimaginable size. But this was one of the few rarer fresh-water species, which neverless was awesome enough. 

    "Time to call on Mightor, Tog." Tor said. But as he started to raise his club, a tenalce shot forth and fastened itself around him in a flash. The sudden, incredible pressure, caused the club to fall, from his grasp. Another tenacle sgot for Tog, but the agile flying reptile soared out of reach just in time. 

     Tor was now as helpless as 'Lil Rok and Ork were—only 'Lil Rok  didn't seem to realize his situation "Put us down, and come quietly!" "lil Rok shouted, hammering his small fists against the unyielding  coil. "Don't you know that I caught you!!"

      "Awk! Awk!" squawked Ork, much less convinced that it was the nautilid who had been caught. 

      Quick as a blue-green flash, Tog zipped low and snatched up Tor's club. He circled back and flung it to Tor, who caught it with the one arm he had managed to get free. He raised the club. 

    "MIII_" he started. But the nautilid, as though somehow aware of his intention and the transforming power of the club, plunged Tor beneath the water. Tor continued to shout the empowering name beneath the water. Though his voice was now gurgled, the effect was complete. In a flash, he suddenly became Mightor, and his strength was increased a hundredfold. 

     Mightor easily pulled the suckered coil loose . Then, seizing the tenacle, flew up and burst throught he surface of the Rushing Waters. 

     The monster, apparently realizing that it now faced a formidable foe, let loose of Ork and 'Lil Rok, flinging them toward the bank with a loud snap. 

    "Rawk!" cried Ork as he landed in a prickly bush growing above the shore. 

    "Ooof!" cried 'Lil Rok as a he landed right on top of Ork. 

   "Rawk! Rawk!" said Ork, to get 'Lil Rok's attention. 

     "Wow, it's Mightor!" cried 'Lil Rok as he saw his hero battling the water- beast. "Look at hi m go, Ork." 

     As they watched, the monster turned its remaining eight arms upon Mightor. Still gripping the one captured tenacle Mightor dodged out of reach as the tendrils whipped and flailed. Then he sieazed another of the tendrils, then another and then another, until he was holding all eight of the river monster's arms in an unbreakable grip. 

   "Now, beast," said Mightor. "I will see to it that you threaten us no more." The tentacles gathered, he swung the monstrous cephelapod up and out of the water, around and around. Mightor continued to twirl the beast, spinning faster and faster, until both amn and monster became only a dizzying blurr. 

   At last he realsed the nuatilid, sending the tenecaled monster sailing far inot the sky and down the river to splash into great Tethys ocean, seven miles away. 

    Mightor and Tog landed in front of 'Lil Rok and Ork. "Are you two alright?" 

    "We're fine, Mightor! That sure was awesome, you taking care of that monster! Not that I couldn't have handled him myself."

    "I'm sure you could have, 'Lil Rok. But now it's time you headed back to the village. I think you've had enough fishing for one day."

     "Awwwww, just when it was staring to get good. Hey! Where did Tor go! Did that monster—"

    "No, 'Lil Rok. Tor is fine. I made sure he was safe before I took care of the beast." 

     "Oh….well, I hope he make it back to the village okay, without us around." 

    "Don't worry about him, 'Lil Rok. He should be with you shortly." Mightor took off and saored awar over the trees, out of 'Lil Rok and Ork's line of sight. 

    "Gee, what I wouldn't give to be just like him." Said 'Lil Rok. He and Ork started back to the village on foot. "I guess that's the end of our fishing trip, Ork. Oh well,  that monster totaled my new fishing pole anyway." 

     Just then, Tor stepped out from behind a screen of foilaige. 

    "Tor!" 'Lil Rok cried." You should have seen Mightor and tangle with that beast!"

     "Too bad I missed him again, 'Lil Rok!" said Tor. Tog settled besides. "Don't worry thoug, I'll make us both new fishing poles for next time."

    They headed in the direction of Chief Pondo's village. But as they drew nearer, a strange sound rose in their ears. 

    "You hear that, Tor?" 'Lil Rok asked. 

    "I sure do, 'Lil Rok." Tor answered. "If my guess is right, something's up at the village. What do you think, Tog?"

    "Reeunk!" Tgo agreed. 

    The noise was steadily becoming louder. At first, they weren't quite sure what it was, but the closer they got, the collective sound seemd to sift and disperse, until they could make several distinct and terrible sounds. 

     One was the sound of a massed army-or armies, for the sound of it, was though a vast assembles of conquers were marching on the village. 

   One was the flap-flap of hundreds of titantic wings overhear.

    And the other, more distant, was the sound of a vast army of galleons arriving from the Tehtys.

   And for the first time in his life, Tor felt a deep twinge of fear. Not ordinary fear, but a fear that bordered on actual terror. 

    "What's going on?" 'Lil Rok whispered. 

     "I'm not sure, 'Lil Rok." Said Tor. "I think maybe we'd better check it out." 

      They snuck around the edge of the village, and found a place to peer out through the trees. By this time it was clear that the noise was indeed the massed voices of hundreds, perhaps thousands of invaders, just outside Pondo's village. 

    "Whoa!" exclaimed 'Lil Rok. They now had a good look at the entire area  surrounding the cliffs of the village. 

   They had a good view of where the Rushing waters curved around toward the village, where everyone did most of their fishing. 

    From the east, an entire fleet of longboats were arriving. They were manned by shaggy half-humans called Gorks. At the head of the fleet rode a muscular human clad in mammoth hide wearing a winged helmet. 

    They recognized him at once. It was none other than Brutor the Barbarian, whom Mighor had defeated once, come back for another attempt to conquer Ponod's tribe. 

    But this time he wasn't the only one. From the west, from the Tethys, came the dragon-prowed ships of Numo, the sea slaver, his great vessels laden with copper-skinned warriors of his sea-faring race.  

    Nor was this all. 

   Of a sudden, a terrible scream rent the air, causing Tor and 'Lil Ro to glance heavenward. 

 High above, yet another army was poised for invasion. It was that of Vultar, chief of the Vulture men, on the backs of their great pteradactyls. Pondo's warrior, ready to do battle with the Brutor' Gorks, and Numo's sea slavers, now broke in confusion, as they saw the attack from the air. 

     "To the caves!" shouted Pondo.

    Women and children ran screaming for shelter. 

    And from the jungle to the east came a vast army of beasts, giant reptiles and huge, shaggy mammals. And at its head, perched on the flat head of a trachodon, was the familiar form of Korg, the beastmaster, who had somehow survived his prison in the Lake of Lava. 

    "My people are undone!" cried Pondo. "Evacuate the village! My warriors, you are no match for these combined foes!"

     But as all the villagers made a massed run toward the west jungle, yet another foe appeared. It was Kartu, chief of the Plant People, and his army of green-skinned warriors. The Plant People were comparatively few in number—hardly and army. The entire cave village, might have been enough to overwhelm them. But then there also appeared the Serpent Queen, with her army of Gill-Men and squat, gash-mouthed River-Pygmies. And beyond them, they could see four warriors of the Giants, crashing through the trees. 

   In a panic, the villagers turned en masse, in the hope to find a pass through the mountains of the north, but found themselves confronted by the Strom King, and his warriors armed with their fearsome Lightening Rocks. 

    Tor surveyed the grim scenario in horror. It seemed virtually every one of Mightor's enemies had decided to join forces and gang up on Pondo's tribe. "This looks like a job for Mightor." He said. "I'll go get him." But could even Mightor stand up to this? 

       He and Tog disappeared into the jungle, leaving 'Lil Rok and Ork crouched behind the bushes. When they had reached a nearby clearing Tor said, "Time to call on Mightor, Tog." He rasied his club.

    _And it was snatched from his grasp in the next instant!_

    Tor and Tog gazed up in astonishment to see a large purplish-red dragon flying away holding power club in his teeth. The dragon had a human rider, one of Ogar's Dragon-People. 

     "Follow them, Tog!" Tor cried. 

     Tog did follow winging his way after the dragon- man, while Tor kept pace as best he could on the ground. Tog closed in on the rider's beast, but the larger reptile gave Tog and huge swat with his tail, before Tog could get near the club. Tog somersaulted away and landed in the branches of the jungle canopy. At last they burst out into the clearing in front of Pondo's village. The Sea-Slavers and 

  Brutor's Gorks already ahd cut Tor off form the far cliffs, where it appeaered, the vulture men had already descended on the village, and the other armies were fast closing im—and without his club, Tor was helpless. 

   But the Dragon-rider landed, still clutching Tor's club directly between Tor and the warriors, wings thrashing as it landed. 

   It was then that Tor noticed the strange warrior standing in front of Brutor. He was unlike any other race with which Tor was familiar. His skin was plae ice-blue, and his hair was white as frost. A strange circlet of beaten gold set with ice-opals crown his head, and he was robed in a cape of the great white mountain bear. And in one beuly hand he clutched a rod of blue steel—most likely an instrument of terrible power. Perhaps he heralded from some distant land of ice and snow—near the pole of the Pangean world-continent, maybe? 

    Tor hadn't time to speculate, for in the next instant the strange warrior spoke. "So, Tor of the tribe of Pondo, I am very glad we could meet at last."

    "Huh?!" Tor exclaimed. "How did you know my name." 

    "I know more about you than you know, Tor." Replied the man. "For I am perhaps the oldest being in the world. Rar older than anyone of your tribe. I was born during the shaman wars, and I know very much about the old magic—such a the power that resides within your club." 

   "T-the Shaman Wars? But that was over two hundred years ago."

    "My people age very slowly. But there were very few of us to begin with. For our part in the Shaman Wars, Altar, hero of that age, banished us into the depths of the great mountains that divide the world. And we died off until only I was left. My name if Polaar, former chief of the Frost-People."

     "What does that have to do with me—or Pondo's village?" Tor asked sickly. 

     "I have learned much of the outside world, since the last of my tribe past into the realm of Spirits," said Polaar. "And I intednt to retake the world that was stolen from us by Altar those years ago."

    Tor's gaze hardened. "So it's _you _who's behind all this!"

     "That is correct, stripling." Answered Polaar in is glacial-toned voice. "These warriors all follow me." 

     "Mightor has defeated all these warriors before," said Tor, "and he can do it again!" But he suddenly felt sick again—Polaar now had his club. 

     The dragon-warrior dismounted and knelt before Polaar. He held out the club, as though giving his new leader an offering. "Here, my lord."

    Polaar grinned terribly at Tor, as he held out the club. "No, Tor, I don't think Mightor will be bothering any of us."

    Tor gulped. He knew that unless he got his club back Polaar was right. "Give my club back!"

    The Frost-man laughed."I don't think so. Now go tell chief Pondo to give up his lands quietly, and no one will be harmed.Tell him all his people are now my slaves. The sooner he learns this the better."

   Tor's eyes narrowed. "Pondo will never submit to you, Polaar." 

    "Then I shall take the village by force—starting with you!"He raised the strange instrument of blue metal, and pointed it at Tor. A beam of frost shot from it, blasting Tor square in the cest. Tor gasped as a huge block of ice began freezing around him trapping him inside. 

   Just then he heard a voice. _"Miiiiiiightor!"_

    Tor felt his heart sink deeper. It was 'Lil Rok and Ork, flying to his rescue. 'Lil Ro had his Mightor costume and club, and was heading straight for Polaar.

   "'Lil Rok, go back!" Tor shouted. But already he felt as though his lungs were freezing, filling with his, and the words escaped from his throat as a hoarse whisper. 

    "I'll save you Tor!" cried 'Lil Rok, swinging his club back and forth in front of Polaar. 

    The frost man laughed. "So this is the great Mightor!" 

   But Polaar's gloating gave 'Lil Rok time to swat him on top of the head. 

   'Lil Rok and Ork flew over to where Tor lak half-imprisoned in the block of ice nad bgan smashing at the ice with his club."I'll have you out of there, Tor!"

   "'Lil Rok, listen!" Tor gasped. "I want you and Ork to leave the the village right now, and go east! Far to the hill country east of our hunting grounds! Tog will show you the way!" 

    "But I've got to save you!" 

   "Never mind me!" Tor hissed. He was giving 'Lil Rok directions—the only way he knew of that he might be able to save the village, Mightor and himself. And he had to talk fast. "Go! Find an old hermit—"

   The ice froze over his mouth and his words were cut off. Polar had repositioned his ice beam, and froze Tor within the ice block. He then pointed the rod toward 'Lil Rok and Ork.

   "Yeow!" said 'Lil Rok. He had Ork zoomed for the trees and vanished into the jungle. Polaar  fired several beams of wierdling ice toward the boy and brid, freezing several trees and into gleaming columns of ice. But the two were out of reach.

    "Shall we try to follow then, my lord?" asked Brutor. 

    "Nay! Let them go! They can do nothing now—Mightor is finished. Come. Let us, break the news to Pondo's tribe." 

   A few leagues into the jungle, Ork and 'Lil Rok stopped to rest. Ork was panting and out of breath. "Whew!" breathed 'Lil Ro. "Guess we gave those guys the slip. But why did Tor tell us to run away? We know Mightor will take care of those creeps, right, Ork?"

    "Rawk!" said Ork in agreement, even though this time he didn't feel quite as confident.

   Somehow 'Lil Rok didn't either. Could something have really have happened to Mightor? Nah—that was impossible. Even if all Mightor's foes ganged up on him, Mightor would still win. But still, the feeling persisted.  

   Just then the leaves and vines rustled, just a few feet away. 

   "Who's there?" demanded 'Lil Rok. "Come out, or I'll—"

   Sheera stepped through the trees. 

    "Sheera, it's you!" 

    "Yes, it's me, 'Lil Rok." Sheera said. Then 'Lil Rok noticed that she looked on the verge of tears. 

     "Don't worry Sheera! Mightor will save us."

    "I'm not so sure, 'Lil Rok" said Sheera. "The village has been taken. All our enemies have untied with a strange chief named Polaar."

     "That blue-skinned man?"

     "Yes…"

     "He's the one who froze Tor in a block of ice! Ork and I tried to save him but …"

   "So Tor is a captive too!" wailed Sheera. She sank down onto a rock and began sobbing. 

    "But Mightor will—"

    This man-this Polaar-says he has defeated Mightor! He says Mightor is finished and our people are all slaves. Father told me to run, and to find you if I could. I knew Tor took you and Ork fishing this morning. I only hoped I could find you…"

    'Lil Rok slid off Ork and sat beside Sheera. "C'mon. You don't believe him do you."

   "I didn't. Not at first. But after I ran into the jungle, I hid and watched. Polaar has taken all our people captive—even father. Don't you think Mightor would have showed up by now?"

     'Lil Rok thought about this. And the more he thought, the more sense it made. 

    "He even showed us all Mightor's club." Said Sheera.

    "Hah!" 'Lil Rok laughed. "that wasn't Mightor's club!"

   Sheera looked at him. "It wasn't?" 

   "No, it was Tor's. He had it when he had Tor in that ice-block."

   "So where's Mightor?"

    'Lil Rok started to reply, but he had to admit he couldn't think of one.

   Just then Tog swooped down into the clearing. "Look! It's Tog!" cried 'Lil Rok. He jumped off the Rock, and ran to him. Tog licked the boy in the face. "Haha stop it" cried 'Lil Rok. "Do you know where Mightor is? I bet you do, don't you boy?" 

   Tor was unsure wehter to answer "yes" or "no". Then he pinted with one small clawed hand due east. 

   "Mightor's—that way?" asked 'Lil Rok.

  "Reeunk!"  Tog launced himself into the air and began flying East. 

    "I think he wants us to follow him!" 'Lil Rok said. He jumped on Ork and took off. Sheera did her best to keep up with them.

  
 


End file.
